


Favorite Things

by satan_copilots_my_tardis



Series: Signal Flares [8]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/F, M/M, Magic, Older!Dipper, Older!Mabel, demonic courtship, minor weird demonic sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:32:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satan_copilots_my_tardis/pseuds/satan_copilots_my_tardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bill why are you courting me?”<br/>“Jeez kid, I thought that was obvious. You’re my favorite pile of organic matter.” </p><p>Bill's fond of the Twins and even he's not sure if that's a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favorite Things

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is from Bill's weird point of view and there's some weird demonic courting happening. Some sexual content, but not really too explicit.

Bill has to admit a certain fondness for humans. He's always had it and even if such a fascination with the meat bags had caused him problems with other demons as they were carving out their place in the universe, before the first atom of matter could even think of becoming life, it was soon made obvious that his near affection for humanity proved useful. No one had wanted the realm of dreams, no one had wanted to be tied to humans as their source of power, but he had accepted the position without hesitation. Now he's the most powerful monster on this side of the nebula. All because they underestimated the humans.

Human dreams are like the oceans of Earth, vast and for all intents and purposes unexplored by demons. No demon before himself had once looked at the squishy bags of meat, blood, and electrical impulses and saw the untapped potential that he had. It was their loss as he buried himself into the mind of humanity and wound a web of the collective unconscious around him. He explored the deeper reaches of the unconscious and created an entire realm in the wavering line between consciousness and dreaming, a feat no other demon could have accomplished and for him it was as automatic as a human’s sigh. For a few billion years the other demons had teased him, had watched him wander without purpose before the humans blinked into existence. But oh, when they came Bill created and destroyed dreams and implanted desires, and soon he was human history. Free will? What a laugh. Every desire, every impulse beyond the biological, all of what made humanity humanity came from the echo of him. Though he did not create the first dream. It’s a bit like the chicken and the egg, he admits to Dipper one day when the human, his human, the human he holds above all others, asks. He’s been incredibly fond of humans in the past but he realizes that the ones in Gravity Falls, Oregon are his favorites of favorites and has to admit he hadn’t seen that coming.

* * *

Bill doesn't realize it at first, he's too wrapped up in his own plans and has been for a thousand years, so when he meets the Pines twins for the first time when they're twelve he decides to play with them a bit. And oh do they play so very well. He's not lying when he tells them that he likes them even though it cost him his deal with Gideon. Pine Tree and Shooting Star are just too much fun for him to begrudge them for long so he keeps an eye on them and waits to play again.

After meeting them for the first time in Stanford's decrepit mind Bill takes unbridled joy in ripping Pine Tree's soul from his body and taking residence in it even just for a few short hours. And once again he's almost surprised when the twins pull together and 'defeat' him. So over the next three years he does exactly what he promised and keeps an eye on them. Whether they're at the Mystery Shack or at home in California with their family it doesn't matter he's always watching them. Always.

* * *

 

There's something to be said of the simple joy of a plan falling together. Or at least he's always thought so. And does he love to play the long game. He's been plotting, and planning, and scheming, and killing, and wait, wait, wait, waiting, for decades to watch this one play out. But the second but he takes notice of the lanky fifteen year-old Dipper Pines sitting in the Shack his thirst for knowledge and understanding only having grown as he has and Mabel Pines still hyperactive and shining more brightly the star on her sweater all he sees again is the untapped potential of humanity. Maybe his plans can wait Bill thinks in between visits to the Shack, between stinging deer teeth onto a necklace, between creating a floral crown from treated intestines.

* * *

He waits almost a year after forging an alliance with the Pines before he offers to start teaching Shooting Star magic. Bill spends a lot of time in her mind, probably more than he should, and he sees the elasticity there. He pokes and prods at rainbows and insecurities but her mind just stretches to accommodate him. It opens around him like a flower in bloom but like a swarm of ants fighting off an intruder envelops him and tries to smother him into something positive and recognizably _Mabel_. He’s seen born witches with less magical potential and he knows if he teaches her how to glimmer one day she’ll shine.

“Wanna learn a trick, Shooting Star?” Bill’s gone through a lot of trouble to make the Pines family think it’s normal for him to hang around in their world for so long and it pays off when Mabel doesn’t shout or startle when he suddenly addresses her.  The brunette is lying on her bed flipping through some tabloid geared towards the impressionable and insecure female human youth and looks up when he speaks.

“Hi Bill.” She greets and stares at him for a little moment longer. “What kind of trick?”

“Hold out your hand, palm up, Shooting Star.” Mabel hesitates for a moment but she does put out her palm. “I’m going to hand you something and all you have to do is focus on it. Try and make it stay still.” She yanks her hand back.

“Are you going to put a spider in my hand?!” Bill snickers. Maybe some other time. “Or something else dangerous and alive.” Ah, there’s his loophole.

“Nothing dangerous and alive.” Mabel holds her hand out again and Bill points at it, a small spark of blue fire shooting from his finger and landing in her palm.

“Bill!” She flinches but doesn’t drop the flickering flame. After a second she calms down, realizing that the fire isn’t hot, and makes a soft sound of awe as she holds it. “Wow.”

“If you think that part is neat just wait until you see what I’ve got in store.”

“How come it hasn’t gone out yet?” The tiny thing seems weak and fragile, no larger than that which would burn on the wick of a tea light candle.

“Magic, Shooting Star. It hasn’t gone out because you’re concentrating on it. Now I want you to think about it getting bigger.” Mabel stares at the flame intently and it flares up a little before sinking back. A trickle of sweat runs down the back of her neck and she stares at it more intensely until the flame is multiplying in size and flares once ferociously to the ceiling before going out. Bill watches, impressed, as the older twin slumps to the side of her bed panting. “Wow that went a lot better than I expected, nice work Shooting Star.”

“Everything hurts.” She whines and the demon just chuckles. “I feel like I could sleep for a month.”

“That won’t happen next time. I’ll show you how to tap into intradimensional energy from the different planes of reality. It’ll still be taxing at first but you’ll get used to it. You’ve got a lot of potential here kid.” Bill feels her mind nudge at his perception and with a glance at the young girl he realizes that she’s fallen asleep. He cackles for a moment before he heads out to one of his stashes, wanting to gather a few books. He hasn’t taught a human magic in the past two thousand years but he has no doubt that Shooting Star will become something impressive.

* * *

He’s right, of course. In the three weeks he starts teaching her it only takes her two days to make her body a conduite for magical energy, and by the end of the first week he’s taught her several defensive spells and a few party tricks. She takes to magic like a fish to water but it’s the long spells, the controlled ones where she has to focus on a specific amount of energy and sustain it for an extended period of time that she’s not good at. Location spells take a level of precision and control that she’s never been particularly good at exerting in her daily life but offensive spells are her greatest strength. He has no doubt the girl could break through a solid foot of concrete through the sheer force of will without any incantation by the end of the second week.

“Very nice Shooting Star.” He says of the shattered mirror that he’s had her break. “Now put it back together.” Mabel groans and sits down on the dewy grass in the lotus position and takes a few deep breaths. She glares at the shards of glass and after a long moment they begin to hover, trying to push themselves back together. The entire process takes nearly four hours, and Bill has her stop twice so she doesn’t pass out from overexertion. A few times her frustration leaks out and the pieces of glass shatter even further and Bill senses her darkness for the first time.

He doesn’t take a deep breath, like it’s customary for humans who smell something delectable, he merely opens himself a little more to Shooting Star’s emotions. He can taste the murderous intent brimming in her heart and to his astonishment the more murderous she feels the more control she exerts over the glass. He’s only felt this kind of rage right before a person is killed by another but before he can blink she’s finished with the task. The mirror is reconstructed and Mabel flops back on the grass with an exhausted moan. So much darkness in one rainbowy glittery exterior. He wonders if he’ll be privileged enough to see her draw her first blood. He hopes that when the time comes she’ll use her hands. She would look so beautiful with her pale skin covered in blood.

* * *

He’s always split his focus between the two twins but soon Shooting Star has a  human of her own and he finds that he feels less and less compelled to check in on her. Bill still enjoys her company immensely but Pine Tree is so much more fun to taunt and tease. So he turns his attention to the younger twin and stays by his side more often than not. This has the added bonus of really pissing off Stanford Pines as Dipper spends more time in or around the Shack than his hyperactive counterpart.

“Hey Bill?”

“What’s up short stack?” Dipper scowls at the demon. He had recently noticed that Mabel’s last growth spurt had once again left the sister taller than her brother and had brought back the teasing from Pine Tree’s youth.

“I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?” He exaggerates the word as he hovers above the teenager’s bed.

“Mabel and I have been arguing about this thing back and forth for like a week, and I was wondering if you could settle the debate.”

“She’s definitely prettier than you.”

“Shut up, that’s not it. It’s just that you and Stan are really hostile to each other.” Bill is quiet. He hadn’t thought the the Mystery Twins could tell when he was being genuinely threatening to Stanford. “She thinks that it’s just because you’re both butts,” the demon makes an insulted noise but the human just shrugs matter-of-factly. “I think it’s because you guys knew each other before we came to Gravity Falls. I think something happened between you guys in the past.” Oh yes, Bill decides with a flutter of interest stirring within the infinite cosmos concealed in his form, this human is his favorite. His absolute favorite. “I know you won’t tell me if the answer is yes or not, but I just wanted to know if you were planning on carrying through with the threats anytime soon? I don’t really want to lose Stan.”

“Not planning on maiming the old man anytime in the near future, Pine Tree. But sheesh is that guy a drag so I wouldn’t say the option is completely off the table.”  Dipper nods before looking back down at the spell book he’s reading. Bill stares at the human for a long time. He’s heard of lesser demons claiming a human as their own. He’s heard tales of people disappearing only to have their bodies found in pieces, skin peeled back, bones blackened, eyes gouged out, teeth cracked, because the demons cared for them too much, because most demons don’t know how much a human can handle and how they should be cared for. But Bill knows just where to push, just how much pressure to apply. He wants to break the teenager. He wants to put him back together. He wants to own him. “I’ve got business to attend to, kid.” He announces suddenly. “Make sure you get some practical application to go along with the theoretical, Pine Tree.”

“Later Bill.”

He blinks out of existence.

* * *

“When I said get some practice this is _not_ what I had in mind, Pine Tree.” After so long existing in the minds of humans Bill almost always feels echoes of their volatile emotions and at the moment amusement and exasperation present themselves with a flourish.

“We hadn’t really planned on fighting a bunch of Manitaurs.” The kid says bitterly. He’s still dripping with raindrops as he stands in the kitchen of the Shack, Shooting Star looking just as wet though obviously less exhausted. Stanford enters the room grumbling handing the two soggy teens towels.

“Well you overexerted yourselves for one.” Bill says, indicating the first degree burns that are covering the twins’ hands.

“Why exactly do our hands burn anyway?” Dipper asks as he rubs the towel through his hair. “I couldn’t find the answer in any of the books.”

“Humans use their hands for everything, Pine Tree, which makes the palms and fingertips the easiest place for energy to be directed.” He answers absentmindedly, a plan already forming in his mind. “Now second of all, you two caused an atmospheric anomaly, good job!” He snickers. “You’re going to be having freak weather for weeks.” All of the humans groan.

“Can we fix it?” Mabel asks. Her sweater hangs heavily on her body, the yarn having absorbed enough water to warp the shape, and her hair is one large clump of damp and frizz.

“You can’t, Shooting Star, I could, but I’m not going to. What’s that huan phrase you’ve got?” He snaps his fingers and points at them, his voice filling with the weight of a dying star as he turns red. “You reap what you sow.” Both the teenagers shudder but Stanford just continues his scowling in the corner. “Enjoy the rain, kids!” He disappear in a flash. Humans are squanderers. Their lives are a series of missed opportunities. Bill’s not human and he’s not about to miss such a perfect set up.

* * *

He gives Dipper the first heart the next day. The human pales and holds the organ in his hands and for a minute Bill thinks he’ll be sick. Dipper just says a timid ‘thanks, I guess’ before going downstairs to store it in the fridge. Oh he knows Stanford’s going to have something to say about that. Especially when over the course of the next three weeks he just hands off prize after prize to the human. He touches Dipper’s mind often to see how he feels about the gifts and languishes in the potent mixture of confusion, fear, and fondness that he finds there. Perhaps the human isn’t close to accepting the meaning of the gifts just yet but he’s not blind to it. That’s an encouraging sign so the demon proceeds with the courtship. He’s never claimed a human as his own but he wants this one and he’s not going to stop until he gets him.

Bill knows that Dipper doesn’t think he really understands humans and he makes no move to correct the boy. Having the mystery hunter underestimate him is how he manages to gain ground in the process. Of course he knows humans aren’t particularly fond of receiving organs as gifts and of course he knows the teenagers are bottomless pits of hormones, social anxiety, and hunger. Of course he knows that Dipper loves pizza. But the instant he presents the parcel, pretending to have observed humanity just to figure out what the kid would like, he’s won ground. He sees the way Dipper’s gaze softens, sees the tension drain out of his shoulders, feels with a tentative touch to his mind, that fresh blossom of warmth that Bill triumphantly labels affection. He’s a step closer to claiming the squishy human and all it takes is a box of fermented animal lactations and berry paste on a disk of microbes and ground up plant seeds.

* * *

Dipper doesn’t actually confront him about the courtship ritual until the last week of summer. He’s sitting on the roof with a soda and a normal human novel that he’s supposed to read before going back to school when he suddenly sets the book aside and looks over at the demon.

“Bill why are you courting me?”

“Jeez kid, I thought that was obvious. You’re my favorite pile of organic matter.”

“That’s flattering, really it is.” Dipper’s sarcasm has been increasing with his age over the past couple of years and Bill finds the mouthing off human to be strangely endearing. He’s condemned people to an eternity of nightmares for taking that tone with him. “But I don’t really get why. I mean I’m like a baby compared to you and I’m not even an adult by human standards, I’ve screwed up your evil plans in that past and I’m pretty sure I’m going to screw them up in the future, plus, let’s just reiterate, I’m human. What about my ‘organic matter’ could you possibly find attractive.”  Bill hums as he tap the side of his face like a human would tap their chin.

“Age is just a number, kiddo. The universe has only been alive for about the same amount of time it takes for me to straighten my bowtie so I don’t really hold that as a high concern. As for screwing up my plans let’s just say that seeing a little molecule of existence like you trying so much to fight against the whole of cosmic reality is just about the best entertainment that I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m glad my struggles with the forces of darkness amuse you.”

“Forces of darkness,” Bill snorts. “Right, keep dreaming kid. Anyway, I think that your last question more or less just highlights your self esteem issues, Pine Tree. You’re fairly attractive for human standards to start with and all that stubbornness and cleverness that you have stuffed into your abnormally marked head makes you just so pretty to watch.” He chooses his words very carefully so that the teenager blushes and it works. Dipper’s cheeks flare and he looks out at the treeline. “Like looking through a stained glass window.”  The human clears his throat a moment later and speaks without making eye contact.

“So what happens if I don’t ever accept the courtship?” Bill shrugs, he knows that rejecting his affections will be impossible for the human tangled in his web, but offers Dipper the illusion of control.

“Nothing, I just stop giving you gifts without reason.”

“And if I accept?”

“Well that’s a much more messy process.” He purrs, relishing the shudder that runs down his human’s spine.

“But what exactly happens Bill? I think I have a right to know.” The demon snaps his fingers and a thin leatherbound book appears before Pine Tree.

“That’ll give you the logistics, kid. When you’re finished it will return to the Mindscape along with any notes. Can’t have that getting into the wrong hands.”

“Uh, thanks, Bill.” There’s a beat of silence and the demon savors the look on the human’s face. It’s so obvious that all he wants is to pull open the book and read it from cover to cover but he restrains himself. Perhaps he doesn’t want to seem to eager. Bill’s being hums with amusement. Not long now.

* * *

When Dipper accepts the courtship the pleasure that Bill feels is similar to the thrill he gets when making a deal or seeing a plan come to fruition. He lets the human do his strange mouth squish thing, lets the human blush and stutter, lets him get used to the relationship for a few days before he confronts him.

“Pine Tree.” He addresses the human who was brushing his teeth and who is now choking on his toothpaste. Dipper hacks a few times into the sink before glaring at the demon’s reflection in the mirror with watery eyes. He looks ridiculous with toothpaste foam hangin on the edges of his his lips.

“How many times--”

“You need to formally accept the courtship.” Bill says bluntly, not really caring to hear the two hundred and twenty-sixth lecture about not appearing in the bathroom. Dipper’s face drains of its color before turning a brilliant shade of scarlet like Cashier Girl’s hair.

“Oh.” He rises off his toothbrush and fills a cup with water. “When?” Dipper swishes the liquid around his mouth before spitting it into the sink.

“Today.”

“I… okay.” He says timidly. “We can’t do it here. The book said… I don’t want anyone rushing in because they think I’m hurt.”

“I know just the place.” An almost maniacal glee fills the demon. “Go to the Author’s lab. We’re probably going to have to strap you down.” He tastes the sharp edge of Dipper’s fear and the coying sweetness of his heart. “Don’t worry Pine Tree, I’ll take care of you.”

* * *

“Try not to move.” Bill hovers over the teen strapped to the metal table. If he wasn’t already positive about his fondness for the little human this would have confirmed it. Dipper had climbed up onto the table with steel in his eyes, determination squashing his anxiety and let the demon strap him in. They both understand exactly what’s about to happen so Bill doesn’t give the human any further warning before he starts.

Dipper gasps when the demon presses a hand against the copy tattooed on his forearm. Bill’s hand glows with blue flames and they trace the ink before, with the soft wet sound of flesh being torn, they penetrate the idol and burrow into his veins. Bill watches as the human writhes for a moment at the intrusion, crying out as blood dribbles over his skin. Most demons don’t have enough control to claim a human from the inside out, they get over-excited and burn their partner until they’re just cooked meat and charred bones. He’s not one of those fools. His powers lick tenderly over the human’s searing nerves clearing the path and making the pain spark brightly before evening into an nonfluctuating wave. Dipper’s screams are bitten off into whimpers and pants.

“The book failed to mention,” he gasps as the pain travels inch by inch up his arm. “The unbearable agony.”

“Trust me kid, this isn’t agony.” Not yet at least. “Plus I specifically recall a passage that warned most humans die from the shock.” Bill hums watching fascinated as the flames move beneath the humans skin as his claim moves upward and over Dipper’s shoulder.

“If you kill me I swear I’m never having demon sex with you again.” Bill tugs the human’s nerves slightly and blurs the reception between pain and pleasure like a burst of static invading a television screen during a storm.

“Shit!” Dipper moans, head thrown back as the sound escapes him. “Do that again.” Bill likes the flush that’s forming on his partner’s cheeks and obliges. “Fuck, Bill.” He pushes the energy through Dipper’s collarbone and into his heart. “This isn’t going to give you my soul or make me a puppet is it?” Dipper feels his chest contract painfully and for a long moment he can’t breathe. His ears begin to ring and his head goes light and then all of the sudden he’s gasping. His body spasms as the burning rockets through his arteries with every beat of his heart.

“I’m not taking your soul.” Bill reassures but he can tell the human’s too far gone to really notice he’s speaking.  It’s not the first time he’s seen a human mid-coitus, watching a species almost completely driven by the need to reproduce since their inception is basically like watching free porn for eternity, but it’s the first time he’s caused the flush on a human’s face, the tenting in his pants, the sounds that vibrate out of his throat. He’s not entirely sure if he’s disgusted or intrigued as Dipper strains against his bonds.  

He focuses back on his task, watching his magic work its way around every cell, around the potential for every cell that will ever grow again, around everything that makes this human special. Bill’s so focused on his work he doesn’t notice when the blood dripping down onto the metal table starts to evaporate, leaving behind a dull rust-like stain, and the noises that Dipper is making turn just the slightest bit more distressed than pleased.  He does notice when the human cries out and the observation window on the other side of the room shatters.

“Too much. It’s too much, Bill--”

“Almost done, Pine Tree.” He assures the human as he watches his flames fill the white of Dipper’s eyes. The teen groans and closes them against the intrusion. “Come on Pine Tree, keep them open, come on, you know what to do. Open your eyes.” He instructs. Dipper makes a keening sound in the back of his throat and his head turns away from the demon. It hurts. Bill feels the briefest moment of what he thinks is panic. “Come on Pine Tree, you have to open your eyes for me. Come on. Open your eyes. I can’t take care of you if you don’t open your eyes.” The power has to escape somehow or no matter how careful he’s been Dipper will still burn up from the inside. As a last effort Bill yanks hard on the human’s nerves. His eyes fly open and Bill watches as the flames stream up into the air as the overhead lights pop and shower them with sparks. Dipper arches off the table was far as he can with his limbs bound before slumping back. Electricity crackles around them as the fire dissipates over the ceiling before going out.

Bill inspects his handiwork as Dipper pants in the fresh darkness. The tattooed image of himself is completely crusted over with blood but thanks to his precision the mark should heal without destroying it. He looks at his human- His-who is still regaining his breath and is slumped like a fresh corpse on the table. Bill undoes the straps with a flick of his finger but Dipper doesn’t do anything with his regained mobility. The demon hovers for a minute, debating his over his next actions briefly. He’s seen humans curl against each other after intercourse and never really understood the appeal. Curious as to what Pine Tree will do he seats himself atop the human’s chest and finally gets a reaction. Dipper cracks an eye open and then gives him an exhausted smile. His hand comes to rest against the demon’s back.

“Not that that wasn’t equal parts great and unbearable, but next time we have sex we’re doing it the human way. And there’s going to be a lot less clothing and bondage on my part.” Bill cackles.

“I think you look pretty good all tied up, Pine Tree.” There’s a beat of silence and Bill watches delightedly as Dipper’s face heats up.

“I’ll think about it.”

Oh, he’s always been so fond of humanity. He’s always watched them, guided them, but no single human had caught him before. He believed himself above the whims of ownership. To own just one single human when there’s an entire planet of them? How boring. Where’s the fun in watching just one millisecond of a movie when he can watch the whole film?

Bill listens closely as Pine Tree’s breathing evens out and his heartbeat returns to normal. They’ll need to leave soon but he doesn’t say anything.  He’s always liked the way they dream, and live, and scream, and die. Dipper Pines is just the first one he’s wanted to watch do all four.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last piece in part 1 of Signal Flares. The next piece will be told in chronological order and will be a longer multi-chapter fic titled Magnesium Flint


End file.
